My humblest apologies, dear Xinyue.
I will never quite manage the linguistic circus that is your name.
For this poor, unworldly American, your name is a land unknown, with pitfalls and misunderstandings whenever I open my mouth. Where I come from we pronounce our X-es like this:
The -in- is easy, since we have that preposition. IN. Except I’m a recent transplant from Georgia, so I try and make it three syllables:
Now, the -yu- seems like a nobrainer. Yu- probably sounds like our word YOU, right?
…but then there’s that pesky -e on the end. What to do with this? Your dear American teachers, even with years of linguistics, conferences on pronunciation, and workshops on addressing the sociopolitical aspects of the Chinese undergraduate in the US university system under their belts, can’t agree. Those of us fluent in languages like Spanish and Portuguese will deftly tack on the “eh” sound, like the grandpa in the park who didn’t quite catch what you said.
What’s that? Did you sneeze?
Oh, sorry. You’re saying your name?
The vigorous nodding indicates to me that I have, by imitation, pronounced what years of higher education has failed to teach me.
So, Tsin-yuh, forgive me. I will sporadically go back to the eighteen-syllable version of your name, as I have irresponsibly forgotten to write the pronunciation down in IPA symbols.
Sure you don’t have an English name?